


Delegations

by StarlightCaptivator



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aft Ports, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Facials, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensory Deprivation, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5995825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In those four walls, he needn't worry about anything but being a good mech.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delegations

 His world kept reduced to sensation:

 Burning hot servos danced on his frame and helm- toying with the tips of his long audio finials, grinding his faceplates down into the even hotter interface array in front of him.

Reverent digits dipped into hip seams and played gently with wires that they found there, even as their owner grabbed for leverage to keep his body in that rolling rhythm of thrusts backwards onto her spike.

He was sure that if he had his audials on- if he was allowed to have his audials on- just the sound of the slick squelch of penetration into his aft port would've overloaded him right there. He let out a soft, rumbling moan as he pressed a little harder forwards again, laving his broad glossa over their lover's entire interface array before he took his spike into his intakes again.

The grip of the hands on his helm grew tighter, trembled a little, and he felt the nigh overwhelming urge to turn his optics back on, to look up at the alluring seeker coming undone thanks to his mouth- but that was against the rules for tonight too. He was a good mech, his beautiful fliers told him so, but even good mecha couldn't follow the rules _all_ the ti-

 A firm swat at his aft drew his attention back up, and his otherwise silent comms lit up with a single purring message as he realize he had stilled in his thoughts.

 :: Don't even think about it, Prime.:: Optimus let out what he knew was a soft pleading whine, only to be answered with a firmer thrust from behind as a little more weight was pressed down onto him and sensors a little deeper in the confines of his port lit up with new stimulation. ::Suck.::

 Of course he wouldn't break the rules.

 Preposterous.

 His seeker jumped as Optimus redoubled his efforts down onto his spike, lavishing attention into the sensitive ridges memorized by feel, and it was practically as if he could see the pulsing biolights on the intricately designed piece of equipment. They'd get faster in cadence as his efforts were rewarded with pre-fluid, the telling vibration of a highly tuned flight engine paired with a nearly painful grip at the base of his finials motivated the use of a little strength on his draw back. Thank Primus they hadn't deprived his sense of taste this time, though the crackle of charge across his glossa couldn't have been taken either way.

 He turned sightless optics upwards, and with intense concentration he resisted the tugging of his helm back down in favor drawing his mouth upward to the tip of the spike. A clever maneuver of his glossa and the hollow of his cheeks drew Starscream's overload right out of him.

 Those near-painfully gripping hands flew quick as a whip, one to angle his head as he liked, the other to grip the base of his spike- Optimus was sure. The taste of transfluid was scant as his seeker drew out completely, he couldn't help the pleased sigh and shudder as the rest began to fall across his face in a quick succession of spurts.

 The downcycle of flight engines was a reward in itself, even as the comms came in.

:: Cheeky.:: His tone was wry, but clearly sated.

:: _Good_ mech. :: Her glyphs were extremely pleased, very amused. He hadn't realized Windblade had slowed her movements to a stop to watch him bring their seeker off, but tiny aborted circles ground into his aft plating brought his attention firmly back to the fine piece of Camien craftsmanship buried hilt-deep inside of him.

::You may overload when I do.:: Oh. _Oh._ She _was_ pleased, to give such permission. ::Helm down.::

Optimus was sure his fans were screeching now in their attempt to dump the heat from his frame as he complied, tucking his sticky faceplates into the junction of his seeker's hip and groin. He could feel Starscream's spike begin to flag against the side of his helm.

A tremble ran through him as those digits relatively thin as compared to his own traced over the seams his seeping valve panel. He wouldn't dare presume to open it without her permission, nor his spike housing of course. A good mech _earned_ stimulation there.

Gentle handling with an orderly bend directed his thighs wider apart, allowed for a better range of movement and leverage.  A quiver took up in the tensor cabling of Optimus' thighs with Windblade's new in-thrusts -hard, fast and grinding as compared with the slow withdrawals. Gentle, caring hands soothed in contrast simultaneously, playing the places of his frame in reach as beautifully as any long extinct instrument of the old times.

A supplicant's pleas unheard by the deaf audials they belonged to fell from his lips,  his resolve remained strong as he fought of the charge threatening to overflow. He had an important mech's lovingly gifted direction to follow, and he would _not_ disappoint her inside the confines of their shared space, he _couldn't-_

A gasping sob of relief choked off those words fed straight from his processor as a last shove pushed both him and his seeker, the hot rush of charged transfluid lighting up deep sensors inside and allowing him his permission to fall out of the confines of himself and into his own release.

Resetting fuses and tender petting about his helm and neck cabling met him back in the realm of consciousness.

Even without sight and sound, the weighted thermal tarp wrapped around his still occasional juddering frame told him the scene was done. Tentatively, Optimus Prime reactivated his optics. Met with an expression of pleased indulgence, he dialed his audials back on too.

The twitching of those long fins heralded their re-calibration, and even as he went to snuggle that much closer to the one who held his leash, so to speak, an unpleasant pinch at the tip of one of those elegant finials drew his attention over his shoulder.

Starscream looked back at him, putting on an unimpressed glower despite the contented purr of his engines. Optimus looked back at him, knowing he was leaving time for dramatic effect before he said anything that was likely instigatory in nature. He reset his vocalizer before the seeker could speak, his still exposed mouth fell into a bit of a pout.

"Windblade is the only one who I belong to within the confines of this room. Be quiet and cuddle." his voice wasn't commanding or deriding or anything of the sort- he just sounded all the world for a mech that wanted his quiet and cuddles. 

He relaxed down into the padding as Starscream remained against his back despite his words, and Windblade petted about his front. She stage stifled a soft 'pfft'. 

"Thank you for reminding him, Optimus. Rest now." He shuttered his optics, dialed down his audials and allowed for a return to full relaxation as his fliers began to bicker good-naturedly over top of him. 

**Author's Note:**

> And here we have another Midnight Writes project! I started this a while back, and since I was so nearly done with it after the last session anyways, I decided to wrap it up in time for Valentine's day. 
> 
> [The original prompt for this was thanks to Agatha's crackship generator!](http://orteil.dashnet.org/randomgen/?gen=m2Hq04j4) Go try it out, it's loads of fun. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
